


Harry Potter, Drake

by FalconLux



Series: W.I.P. Collection [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU after OotP, Creature Harry Potter, M/M, No DH, No HBP, No character bashing, Tags May Change, Work In Progress, rating may increase
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconLux/pseuds/FalconLux
Summary: Harry’s knack for getting into trouble was matched only by his ability to survive it. When he woke up in the body of a demi-dragon, it would seem to be just another day. The urge to eat professors, however, is a bit concerning.This is a work in progress. It is not finished. It may Never be finished. Updates will be sporadic. Read At Your Own RISK.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: W.I.P. Collection [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/398941
Comments: 105
Kudos: 483





	Harry Potter, Drake

Harry woke with a pounding head and the smell of the hospital wing in his nose. _Oh Merlin, what happened to me this time?_ Was his first thought.

He rolled to his feet and stretched his neck, back, tail, legs, and extended his wings, scowling when the room proved too narrow to fully extend them. He turned his glare on the wall and wondered if he could make a hole through it so that he could properly stretch. Or, better yet, just bash through it and go outside. Then he’d have plenty of room to stretch and he could have a nice fly. Flying sounded like fun.

His thoughts derailed as it occurred to him exactly what had just gone through his head. Mentally bracing himself, he turned his head and looked back at his body. 

It looked as it should. Rusty gold scales tapered to black around his joints. The skin of his wings was solid black. Small spikes ran down his tail to larger ones at the end, which would rip and tear flesh with ease. Four strong legs, each ending in powerful talons tipped in razor sharp claws.

Again, he forced his thoughts to stop. There was something very wrong here. The body he was looking at _seemed_ like it should. But it wasn’t. No, it most definitely was not. He was Harry Potter. He was a human. A wizard. He was _not_ a dragon. He should be bipedal and soft and squishy and delicious…

Wait. Stop again. Delicious? No. He was not delicious. Or, he _shouldn_ _’t_ be. Or…

Why was everything so confusing? Part of him knew without doubt that he was a human wizard named Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, etc. etc. 

But only part.

If he didn’t focus really hard on knowing that he was a human, then he wasn’t. Well, obviously, he was in the body of a dragon, or a… No, he was pretty sure that he was a drake. Smaller cousin of the dragon – and thank you Hermione for giving way too much supplemental information before the First Task. 

Right. So, he was in the body of a drake. Honestly, anyone else probably would have been completely shocked by this development. Considering his life, however… Well, it wasn’t all _that_ surprising that he’d find himself in yet another impossible situation.

He was much more concerned with how the hell he’d ended up like this. And, more importantly, how he was to become a human wizard again.

That gave him pause. _Why_ would he want to be a puny, squishy, juicy human when he was a mighty drake? Humans didn’t even have wings. Or scales. Or…

His wings just wouldn’t stretch out in this stupid little room! He growled fiercely at the walls, but of course, they weren’t impressed. Hm. Which wall would get him outside the fastest…? They all looked the same. Except for that one. That one had a soft, thin spot in it. 

_A door, Potter. It_ _’s a door. Merlin, you’re a wizard, not an animal. Now, bash through that door so that you can stretch your wings!_

Some tiny part in the back of his mind that was still firmly human was cringing, but he ignored it. He wanted to stretch and to fly and to hunt. Yes. Definitely to hunt. He was hungry. 

With a small, feral growl, he swung his tail around into the door. There was a satisfying _crack_ , and the weak spot began to break. Pleased with his success, he repeated the process twice more.

The door finally came free with a wrenching groan. Shrieking with glee, he leapt through the hole only to stop suddenly and painfully as his tail was violently yanked.

Turning around with a loud snarl, he saw that the door was actually stuck on his tail, and now preventing him from leaving. Twice that door had foiled him! That was it! That door was _not_ going to best Harry Potter! Drawing in a sharp breath, he spat a ball of blue flame at the offending object.

The door was wood and could not put up a fight against the heat of a drake’s breath. With a victorious snarl, Harry ripped his tail away from the disintegrating door and finally was free of the smaller room. He chirped with joy and was finally able to stretch his wings! Oh, Merlin, that felt _divine_! A deep, rumbling purr echoed from his chest at the pleasure of finally being able to stretch. The heat from the flame was also a welcome distraction.

“Oh, Merlin…”

Harry snapped his head around to the source of the noise. There, across the large room, were four soft, squishy things. They seemed a little familiar, but that was an errant thought. He lifted his head and scented the air. They smelled rather good, though they were larger than his normal prey. His head was about eye-level with them, his shoulders a little above their waists, and he was probably half again as long as they were tall. If you didn’t count his tail, which was about as long as his body.

He wondered for a moment if it would be worth it to try to kill one, but then one of them made noise again.

“Salazar… _That_ _’s_ Potter?”

“Yes,” another said.

They were all speaking quietly. Cautiously.

Harry stilled at the sound of his name. _Yes. Potter. You_ _’re Harry Potter. Those are not food, they are your professors and Madam Pomfrey. Damn it, Harry, get a grip!_

“How did this happen?” Dumbledore asked, his voice also quiet and rather light considering that Harry was a sodding drake!

McGonagall sighed, “We were practicing basic human transfiguration. I was assisting Miss Brown, so I didn’t see exactly what happened. From what I understand, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley somehow managed to simultaneously mangle their spells, _and_ simultaneously hit Mr. Potter with them.”

Harry blinked. _Seriously?_ He truly did have the worst luck.

Dumbledore chuckled quietly, “So quite an unusual occurrence, then?”

McGonagall glared blackly in return. “ _Yes,_ Albus. _Quite_ unusual.” She sighed with distress. “Only Mr. Potter could find himself in such a situation.”

“I am more concerned about how much of his mind he has retained,” Snape bit out harshly, though his voice was also pitched low – so as not to startle the possibly feral drake, Harry guessed.

“Oh, given the situation, I would say… none,” Albus said brightly.

Snape stilled. “Albus,” he hissed quietly, “Are you telling me that _that_ ,” he pointed at Harry, “is a completely wild drake?”

“Yes.”

All four of them turned to look at Harry, their expressions very cautious.

Harry stared back, trying to figure out how to tell them that he was still him. He looked around the room for inspiration, only to find himself looking at a hole in the wall large enough for him to get out. _Perfect!_ He could _fly!_

With that happy thought, he bounded toward the hole and leapt, making sure his wings were tucked in tightly so he didn’t catch them on the edges.

It wasn’t until the very last second that he came to the realization, _window, not hole!_ By then, it was too late to do anything but close his eyes and smash through the glass.

He shook his head as he began to fall and extended his wings, swooping back up into the air just before meeting the ground.

With a cry of joy, Harry sailed up into the sky. Luckily, even the fine flesh of his wings was too tough to have been harmed by mere glass, and his head was evidently hard enough to have suffered no damage from crashing into the window.

Harry soared for some time, snapping occasionally at the birds that flew around. He managed to nip the tail feathers of one pale owl before the human in him thought of Hedwig and he released instantly, horrified at what he’d almost done – though he was pleased to see that it had been a tawny owl and not a snowy owl. He’d never forgive himself if he ate Hedwig. And she’d never forgive him if he snapped off her tail feathers.

But he was _hungry_! Well, if he didn’t want to eat school owls, he’d just have to find some wild animals. With that, he turned his attention to the forest. There _had_ to be something good to eat out there that wouldn’t be anyone’s pet.

Two hours later, Harry was pleasantly full of small, soft, squishy, feathery and furry meals he’d chased and caught in and above the forest. Now he was sleepy, but where to sleep…?

After circling and searching for a proper place for a little while, he decided that it was too cold to find a comfortable spot out here. He turned back toward the castle in the distance. There were warm places in the castle, he remembered. Fireplaces. Curling up on the rug in front of one of those fireplaces sounded divine. Or maybe even _in_ the fireplace. Yeah. That sounded good.

He was halfway back before he remembered what had happened in the hospital wing. Merlin, they had to be _so_ worried about him! How had he managed to forget about everything just to have fun flying and hunting? Well, Dumbledore was wrong about his mind being completely gone, but he definitely wasn’t all there either. It had been _far_ too easy to slip into the mindset of being a drake and forget all about being a human. He had to be more careful or he really _might_ forget who he was.

So… he needed to get back to the castle. But how to get in? Smashing through another window didn’t seem like a great idea, even if it hadn’t hurt. He wasn’t sure if he could open a door though… Maybe he could knock? Well, it was worth a try. He’d just have to be careful not to knock _too_ hard. Or forget that he wasn’t supposed to just make his own door.

* * *

Harry woke to an expressively pounding head _again_ , and growled angrily as he rolled back up to his feet, head swiveling as he searched for one of those squishy humans on whom he could express his displeasure.

His scowl slipped away when he realized that he had absolutely no idea where on Earth he was. At a guess, he’d say maybe a rain forest.

He was lying on a patch of mossy ground next to a lake surrounded by spindly trees and lush ferns. A smallish waterfall was pouring water into the lake from a rocky ridge not too far away. The air was warm and humid. 

He rose cautiously and sniffed the air while he stretched his body. Something didn’t smell quite right. Two things. First, he didn’t smell any animal life – apart from himself. Second, there was a lingering scent of humans and a tingly, itchy sort of scent that he recognized as magic.

When he was convinced that there wasn’t anything close to him that might be a danger, he lowered his head to the lake and drank deeply. The water tasted good, and it also tasted of fish. Yes, there were some animals here. But they were in the water. The smell and taste of fish in the water translated to food, but he wasn’t really hungry at the moment, so he ignored it. He’d remember this place for the next time he wanted to eat.

He looked around again, then leapt and took to the air. He’d only gone about triple the height of the trees when he felt the burn of magic getting much stronger. He instinctively dropped lower. He explored his boundaries for some time and discovered that there was a kind of dome around him. Beyond the dome looked like it was safe to go, but the burn of magic told him that he couldn’t get there.

Slowly, his human mind began asserting itself again and he concluded that he was surrounded by some kind of wards that were preventing him from leaving. He kind of wanted to try to fly through the wards, but his instincts forbid that idea. However much his human mind thought that he could just bash through and be free, his animal instincts told him that that would be a very bad idea – survival-wise. Considering his track record, these newly developed instincts might actually be a very good thing, he noted with some degree of annoyance.

After scouting out the borders of his little habitat and deciding that it was large enough to live and fly, but still a cage, he landed down by the lake again and forced his human mind to take control and examine his situation.

Now, how did he end up here…? The last thing he remembered…

He’d woken up in the hospital wing to find himself a drake. Right. That was weird.

Then there was McGonagall’s explanation of how it had happened. One of those one-in-a-million chances that seemed to be more like one-in-five once you factored in that he was Harry Potter.

He was annoyed when he realized that they’d never gotten around to discussing how he’d change back into a human – or if he ever would. Surely they’d figure something out. Honestly, he was Harry sodding Potter. He was the Boy-Who-Lived and the Chosen One. He still had to kill Voldemort. They couldn’t leave him like this.

Unless maybe this was the way he killed old Voldie. Drakes were the only demi-dragon species that breathed true dragon fire, and that was almost as potent as Fiendfyre if he was remembering Hermione’s lecture right.

Problem was that Dumbledore thought he was pure-drake, mentally speaking – which meant that they had to keep him in a cage lest he migrate to Africa and look for a mate or something. He cringed at the thought. Merlin, he was _so_ not into bestiality, no matter how beautiful he might find dragons and the sub-species.

The really disturbing part was that part of him liked the idea of finding a mate. Merlin. That was… wrong. Yes, it was definitely best that he was kept caged for now. If he actually mated with a female drake, he wasn’t altogether certain that he could handle ever becoming human again. He’d probably have to be committed when the drake instincts left him with nothing but the memories of…

No, stop thinking about that right now.

He still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here though. He’d gone flying off like a wild drake to stretch his wings and hunt some dinner. When he’d finally realized that that was a bad idea and decided to go back…

He’d landed in front of the main doors of the castle, and…

He growled when he remembered being pelted with about a dozen stunners.

Then he remembered that he’d tried to attack after the first two, and told himself that it was a good thing they’d managed to subdue him or he could have really hurt someone. And he’d definitely lose it if he killed and ate a professor or something.

Eugh…

Even worse, only the human side of his mind was disturbed by that idea. The other side was mentally licking his lips at the thought of warm blood and flesh in his mouth…

Wow. _Definitely_ needed to be in a cage.

Also definitely needed to be human again before he did something unforgivable.

* * *

Harry woke and yawned broadly. Daytime again. After a good, long stretch – stretching was _fantastic_ – he ambled over to the big tree by his nest and scratched another notch into the bark. With his drake mind being so distractible, he’d figured out very quickly that keeping track of time was going to be almost impossible if he wasn’t careful. So, in an effort to know how long he’d been a drake, and to help keep himself from losing his mind entirely to his instincts, he’d started tracking the days.

He counted the notches now. Thirteen. He’d been here almost two weeks. In that time, he’d not seen, heard, or smelt a human being beyond the fading scent he’d first noticed. He ate mostly fish, though he found small animals sometimes too. Judging by the smell of the creatures he never saw, and the smell of the magic surrounding it, he was guessing that house elves were delivering the animals into the enclosure in which he lived. He didn’t mind. Fish were good, but he liked the chance to hunt the rodents and birds better than fishing. Since he was quite an adept swimmer, and the lake was not very big, fishing was too easy.

He _really_ needed to figure out what was going on. He needed to know if they had any idea of how to switch him back. He needed to see a human being, not only to get answers, but to remember that _he_ was a human. Every day, he feared that he was slipping more and more into the mindset of an animal. It was so damnably easy to just embrace his instincts, but each time he allowed it for too long, it was more difficult to recall the truth.

That was why he’d taken to dedicating time every day to just _remember_. Remember his name, his past, his friends, his teachers. Remember everything.

That’s what he was doing while he took a morning flight to stretch his wings. When he felt himself nearing the wards, he blew out a stream of flame and watched the wards light up where it connected. It was quite beautiful. The wards looked like a rainbow web, and they made him feel content – as long as he didn’t get too close, then his instincts started screaming and he had to flee.

He blew out another stream of flame, then movement below caught his eye and he whipped around, hovering briefly in the air.

Then he identified the shape.

A human.

Shrieking with glee at finally seeing a human, Harry tucked in his wings and streaked toward the shape. For a moment, his instincts tried to take over when he saw the human stiffen and step back quickly as if to flee. Chasing was fun, after all, and prey fled.

But then the human stopped and Harry managed to push his instincts back.

The man lifted his arm, pointed his wand at Harry, and he felt magic spring up between them. He opened his mouth and nearly breathed at the human that suddenly seemed a threat. But the magic didn’t actually feel aggressive. It felt defensive.

That was enough for him to wrestle his instincts away once more, and then he crashed right through the erected shields. They slid off his scales like water and Harry opened his wings wide to arrest his dive.

He landed on top of the human, who fell beneath him, but he didn’t hit him hard, and he knew that the soft, squishy human was not harmed. He didn’t smell hurt. He smelled human. And that was a very good smell after so long alone but for a few dumb animals.

Harry buried his snout in the man’s neck and hair and breathed. He smelled of blood and flesh and life and magic. And… He lifted his head and sniffed more carefully along the man’s neck and face. Chamomile. The man’s breath smelled like chamomile, which Harry, after a moment, decided was from tea. And his chest smelled even better, though he couldn’t quite sort out all the smells right now, mixed together as they were.

Movement caught his eyes again, as Harry felt the man’s magic building, and his gaze snapped down to the man’s hand. He was pointing a wand at Harry.

With a quiet growl, Harry carefully snapped up the wand in his jaws, mindful not to break it, and tossed it over his shoulder.

The man went perfectly still again.

Harry went back to sniffing his chest and neck and hair and breath. He smelled wonderful.

“Potter,” the man barely breathed.

Harry drew back enough to look at the man’s face. Snape. Right. This was Professor Snape. He leaned down and nuzzled the man’s face. He was so happy that he’d come. Now he just had to figure out how to keep him here…

“Potter… Harry. Can you understand me?” Snape just barely murmured.

Harry looked at him again. “ _How exactly do you expect me to be able to answer that?_ _”_

“Potter…” Snape hesitated, then continued cautiously. “I can hear your surface thoughts.”

Harry blinked, then backed up a little more and deliberately looked into Snape’s eyes. “ _Handy thing, Legilimency,_ _”_ he thought deliberately.

Snape huffed a relieved breath. “Can you let me up, Potter?” he asked cautiously.

Harry looked down and realized that he was indeed pinning his professor to the ground with his body. He backed up slowly and sat down, watching Snape get up very slowly.

“Are you going to attack me if I get my wand?”

Harry glanced back at where it had landed, then looked at Snape again. After a moment, he decided that one human really wasn’t that much of a danger. He met Snape’s eyes again. “ _No. Sorry about that._ _”_

“That’s fine, Potter,” Snape was still being really careful. He moved very slowly, turning so that he didn’t present Harry with his back, and retrieved his wand. He checked it for damage and looked quite relieved to find it unharmed. Then he slowly slipped it back into the sheath in his sleeve. “Now, Potter… How clear is your mind?”

Harry stretched his back again and swished his tail a little, noting with interest the way Snape’s eyes followed every little movement before meeting his eyes again. “ _Pretty clear right now,_ _”_ Harry admitted. “ _I_ _’m still me, but with the instincts of a drake. Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that I’m human – or that I was. Please don’t leave!”_ He stepped forward quickly, his instincts screaming at him to keep Snape close.

Snape stiffened, obviously trying not to back up. “Potter… I’m not going anywhere. Can you tell me why it’s important to you that I stay?”

_“I need to remember,”_ Harry replied with an edge of desperation. “ _It_ _’s hard to remember when I’m alone. Please. I don’t want to forget who I am.”_

“Okay, Potter,” Snape placated. “Okay. I’m here. Try to calm down.”

Harry fought his instincts that were telling him to force Snape to stay, and made himself move back and plant his haunches on the ground. “ _Where am I?_ _”_

Snape seemed to relax when Harry sat, and more when he asked a coherent question. “You’re in the Room of Requirement.”

_“Really?”_ Harry thought, fascinated as he looked around again. That explained why the magic of the wards made him feel so much at home – particularly his human side. It _was_ his home. Harry shook his wandering thoughts and looked at Snape sharply. “ _Is there a way to change me back?_ _”_

“We’ve been searching ever since this happened,” Snape nodded. “We’ve had little luck thus far, but we were assuming that your human mind was completely suppressed. If you’ve managed to hold onto it this well, that will make things considerably easier. It is only a matter of reverting your body. That changes things dramatically.”

Harry’s mind soared with hope at that reassurance. “ _Okay,_ _”_ he thought at Snape. “ _Okay then. I_ _… I can hold on then.”_

“Good. We’ll figure this out, Potter. I give you my word.”

Harry closed his eyes and spent a moment basking in that assurance. His memories of Snape were all intact, but a little muddied under his drake instincts. At the moment, his strongest sense of Snape was that he could be trusted despite the murky memories of harsh words and impatient lessons. He knew that Snape had always protected him when it mattered. 

“I need to inform Albus of this development…” Snape started.

Before Harry realized what he was doing, he’d tackled Snape again. The man went down with an expressive “oomph”, then held very still.

“Harry…” he whispered.

Harry met his eyes. “ _Sorry. I didn_ _’t mean to do that. I can’t…”_ He shook his head briskly. “ _You can_ _’t leave. I need you.”_

Snape’s eyes widened, and for a long moment, he was silent. “Harry…” he said cautiously. “You must understand… I cannot possibly stay here until you’re changed back. I have classes to attend, and I must aid in the research as potions may very well be required…”

Harry heard a whine slip up his throat as he struggled against his instincts, but he could not convince himself to let his professor get up. All he knew was that this man was vital to his survival. Snape could talk to him – could hear him. He was human and he smelled good and he could be trusted. He couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t. Harry couldn’t let him. He had to stay here or Harry was sure he’d go mad or turn into a drake for a real or…

_“No. Stay.”_

Snape took a shaky breath. “Potter, I can’t stay…”

_“I can’t let you leave.”_

Snape closed his eyes for just a moment and Harry went back to smelling him around his face and neck.

“Harry… What are you doing?”

Harry lifted his head to meet Snape’s eyes so that the man could hear him. “ _You smell good,_ _”_ was his simple reply before he went back to smelling again.

“Harry… I… You know that I am not food.”

Harry lifted his head more quickly this time, looking at the man incredulously. Snape thought he was going to _eat_ him? _Not food,_ he thought very sternly. “ _Good. Like_ _… Human.”_ He lowered his head a little to sniff again without breaking eye contact. “ _Like tea and books and potions and magic and_ _… home. Good.”_

Snape looked somewhere between disturbed and relieved at that explanation.

After a long moment, Harry went back to smelling him. That _was_ what he smelled like. More than anything, the man just smelled like _home_. Maybe because it reminded Harry of his life as a human. Whatever caused it, he never wanted to stop smelling it.

“Okay, Potter…” Snape said after a long moment. “You can’t let me leave, can you.”

Harry drew back enough to reply with a brief, _no,_ then burrowed his nose into the man’s hair. It smelled of rosemary, chamomile, and potions, and he rather loved it.

After a long moment of silence, Snape spoke again. “Potter… I believe that I can create a mental link between us that will allow us to converse even if I’m not… close to you.”

Harry whimpered again at the thought of the man leaving.

“If I create that, and promise to return as soon and as often as I am able… Will you be able to…”

He was cut off by a sharp whine as Harry drew back and used his eyes to wordlessly plead for the man to just stay with him.

Snape sighed. “I can’t, Harry. I know that you understand that.”

Harry closed his eyes and forced himself to acknowledge what Snape said. He _did_ know it. Snape was a teacher. He had to go to his classes and grade papers and brew potions and do research to help Harry be human again, but…

But every single instinct in his body was insisting that he keep this human close to him.

He fought back his instincts with all of his will, _forced_ himself to hear the very reasonable arguments. He consoled himself with the professor’s offer and his promises. He could trust Snape. He could.

He opened his eyes again, whimpering slightly as he struggled against his instincts. “ _You have to keep your promise,_ _”_ he thought with all the urgency he could muster. “ _If you promise to come back soon and it takes a long time_ _…”_

“I understand,” Snape said slowly, dark eyes studying Harry intently. “I will keep my promise, Harry.”

Very, very slowly, Harry backed off his professor, his instincts resisting every step of the way. He didn’t take his eyes off the professor.

“Thank you,” Snape said quietly once he’d made it back to his feet.

Harry breathed out heavily as he felt a little of the weight of fighting against his instincts ease at the gratitude. He wanted Snape to stay very badly, but it was important to the man that he be able to leave. Harry had never been selfish. What mattered to those he cared about mattered to him. For Snape, he could do this.

“I’m going to make the link now,” Snape said cautiously. “It will create a semi-permanent connection between our minds. That means that it will remain until it is deliberately removed. We won’t hear each other’s every thought. Only the thoughts that we wish to share will be conveyed. You must deliberately think while wishing to communicate to me in order for me to hear, but the distance between us will not affect it, so you can reach me at any time. Do you understand?”

_“Yes,”_ Harry thought eagerly.

“I must add that this is technically illegal without your consent. So, do I have your permission…?”

_“Yes, yes, yes!”_ Harry thought impatiently, bouncing a little on his forelegs. He didn’t want to be alone again. He couldn’t be. He needed Snape to do this, and his drake instincts were not keen on waiting while they hammered out the legalities.

To his surprise, Snape actually smiled a tiny bit. “Okay. Try to hold still, and do not break eye contact,” he instructed.

Harry forced aside his instincts and did his best to imitate a statue, staring directly into his professor’s eyes.

“Do not fight me,” Snape murmured, again with that little hint of a smile.

Harry didn’t move or blink.

After a moment, he felt a strange sort of pressure in his mind. If he was human, he knew that he’d have panicked at that point. Snape’s lessons and Voldemort’s intrusions had sternly conditioned him to react violently to any presence in his mind that wasn’t him – actually, that was probably why he was doing as well as he was against the drake instincts.

The pressure built steadily for a long moment, and then there was a sort of _shifting_ feeling, and then it faded until he could only tell it was there if he concentrated on it.

Snape broke eye contact and looked at the ground. “ _Can you hear me, Potter?_ _”_

_“Yes!”_ Harry thought excitedly.

Snape let out a slow, relieved, breath. “Are you capable of letting me leave now, Potter?”

Harry’s muscles twitched as he fought the urge to tackle him again. Slowly, he stepped forward and breathed in the man’s scent once more, trying to memorize everything about it.

Harry felt wary amusement emanating from that little, almost forgotten knot in the back of his mind and he basked in the sensation. “ _You_ _’ll be back soon.”_

It wasn’t a question, but Snape answered it anyway. “ _On my word, Harry._ _”_

_“Then go,”_ Harry thought, taking a few swift steps back, then turning and launching himself into the air, flying swiftly toward his nest once more. He knew that he’d never be able to do it if he stayed and watched Snape walk away.

He dove right into the lake and busied himself with fishing, fighting to not think about Snape leaving.

_“I’m outside, Harry,”_ Snape’s thought came in his mind.

Harry mentally cried out, but forced himself to remain rational. “ _Hurry back,_ _”_ was all he sent.

* * *

Severus sagged against the wall outside the Room of Requirement once the door was secured behind him. Merlin, that had been the most intense, bewildering experience of his life. He’d simply gone in there to reset the monitoring spells. He’d not expected to see Potter, much less _talk_ to him.

Or be tackled by him, disarmed, and sniffed to within an inch of his life.

_“I’m outside, Harry,”_ he thought, since it was obvious that Harry was fighting desperately against the instinct to keep Severus there with him.

Severus cringed when he felt something very much like agony ripple out from that link. The connection he’d created wasn’t supposed to convey emotions, but then it wasn’t meant to be used on very intelligent demi-dragons either. It had been a risk to use it at all, but given that the alternative seemed to be moving into the Room of Requirement permanently, he’d determined it a calculated risk.

_“Hurry back,”_ was the only response.

Severus took a deep breath and worked to steel himself against the raw _need_ in that simple plea. Salazar, this was Harry bloody _Potter_! Severus should not be affected like this. But he’d always had a weakness for feeling needed – a side effect of growing up with a father who consistently told him how worthless and unwanted he was. Being _needed_ was the reason he’d originally taken up with the Dark Lord. The wretched monster had discovered that insecurity and played to it.

Lily and Albus _needing_ him was why he’d ended up switching sides after discovering that he didn’t particularly like the Dark Lord’s unique brand of “needing” anyone.

And now Harry Potter, of all people, seemed to genuinely _need_ him.

Severus forced himself to shake those thoughts as he started slowly toward the headmaster’s office. Yes, Harry – Potter, damn it! – clearly needed him. The question was _why_ the brat felt that he needed Severus, of all people.

The boy seemed to be badly influenced by the instincts of the drake body in which he resided, but he could conjure no reason that the drake would feel that it needed any human. So the need came from Potter, but the instincts to do whatever was necessary to meet that need was the drake. That made some sense. Except that it didn’t explain why Potter “needed” Severus.

The boy was rather obsessed with Severus’ scent. Because he smelled like “home”. Potter was struggling to cling to his humanity. Being around any human that he knew had to help with that. Being able to actually speak intelligently to a human being had to help a lot too.

Maybe that explained it. He just happened to be the first human Potter had seen in two weeks.

And there was absolutely _no_ justification for the small pang of hurt he felt at being needed only because he happened to walk into the room first.

With a sigh, he forcibly banished _that_ train of thought, and picked up his pace to the gargoyle that was now in sight. Surely Albus would be able to make some sort of sense of this.

“Ah, Severus! Did you have any… problems…” the older wizard trailed off as his eyes settled on the potions master.

Severus heaved a mental sigh as he realized that his hair and robes were quite likely a spectacular mess after being tackled – twice – by an overeager drake. Not to mention the sniffing. No, really didn’t need to mention the sniffing.

Severus seated himself in front of the headmaster’s desk with as much dignity as he could muster. “Yes, Albus,” he drawled sardonically. “There was a slight problem.”

Albus’ eyes skated carefully down his body as he checked for injuries. “What happened?” he asked after a long moment.

“He happened to see me while I was in there,” Severus said, suddenly feeling only tired. He didn’t even hesitate to take the tea Albus offered. He tried not to remember Harry’s comment about him smelling like tea while he sipped.

“How did you manage to evade him?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Severus sneered. “He went through my shields as though they weren’t there. In fact, I say with some confidence that, had you been right about Potter, you would be looking for a new potions master tomorrow.”

Albus’ eyes widened. “Tell me what happened.”

So, with another sip of tea and a deep breath, Severus explained everything that had happened from first catching sight of Harry streaking out of the sky straight at him, to creating the link between them, to escaping with his skin intact.

Albus listened to it all without comment, then leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “That boy will never cease to amaze me,” he finally concluded.

Severus couldn’t help but sneer at Albus’ stark favoritism of the Potter brat. If he was honest with himself, half the reason Severus had such difficulty separating Harry from James was the fact that Albus had so thoroughly favored the both of them. That favoritism of James had caused Severus no small amount of grief. The light punishments had practically given the arrogant prat permission to torment Severus, and quite honestly, it had hurt to see yet another adult that seemed to think Severus was so much less important than one of his peers – that he didn’t even deserve to be treated to a modicum of fairness.

But then, life wasn’t fair. It never had been and it never would be. Which was why Severus was now mentally linked to Harry Potter – the drake – who seemed to need Severus so desperately but really only needed any human contact, and who would go right back to hating Severus as soon as he was free of his animal instincts.

Nope. Life wasn’t fair. That was a fact he’d accepted as a young child. It had only been enforced throughout his adult life.

Oblivious to Severus’ maudlin thoughts, Albus went on. “So Harry has managed to retain his mind. I should have guessed that he might, given the strength of his mind and will. If the boy can overcome Tom’s Imperius, it is not so unbelievable that he might be able to persevere through this. Well, this changes things dramatically. I believe our options for correcting the problem have just increased exponentially.”

“Yes, Albus, that did occur to me,” Severus drawled bitingly. “But what, exactly, am I supposed to do about the boy’s sudden attachment to me? He was barely able to allow me to leave today, and I’ve given my word to return soon.”

Albus nodded, eyes sparkling jovially. “Well, I imagine you shall have to return soon then, Severus.”

He spent a moment grinding his teeth, and telling himself that it was bad form to curse his employer, before he dared to speak. “Albus… You _are_ comprehending the fact that this is _Harry Potter_. He and I have never exactly gotten along.”

“Oh, come now, Severus,” Albus almost chuckled. “Surely you cannot compare a drake to James Potter.”

Severus took a long, slow breath, counting silently in his head. Merlin, he wanted to try out a skinning curse or two right now. Albus knew exactly how much he hated to even hear that name.

_“Snape? Are you okay? Why are you angry?”_

Severus let out his breath in an abrupt sigh. Well, he supposed that answered the question as to whether or not Potter was feeling his emotions as well. He tried hard to not be affected by the combination of concern and anger he sensed in the boy’s query. “ _I_ _’m fine, Harry,”_ he sent back, immediately berating himself for his inability to remember to call the brat Potter. It had been a calculated decision when facing the Drake. Now it was likely the bond influencing his familiarity with the boy. “ _I_ _’m speaking with Albus.”_

He felt a mental snicker wipe away Harry’s concern and anger and he nearly snarled before the boy’s response came verbally. “ _He makes me feel like that, too. Bring him in here and I_ _’ll bite him for you. We can blame it on my drake instincts.”_

Severus very nearly laughed aloud at the suggestion. It was rather Slytherin.

“Severus?”

He snapped back to angry as quickly as he could when he focused on the headmaster again.

“Is Harry speaking to you?” he twinkled infuriatingly.

“Evidently, a side effect of the mental link is a degree of emotional awareness as well. It is a minor complication caused by the drake aspects of his mind. Under the circumstances, I think it is a minor problem.”

Albus nodded, obviously quite able to guess why Harry would have suddenly sensed emotions that caused him to comment. “Quite an intriguing situation,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Well, for the time being, I suggest that you devote as much time as you are able to being in the Room with Harry. Perhaps you can bring along your marking to do while you are there.”

“Albus,” Severus protested. “Surely there is _someone_ better suited to babysit the brat.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Albus frowned pensively. “You’re the only one of his acquaintance capable of forging such a mental link. It is clear that he’s already content with you. And, of course, we couldn’t risk any of the students in there with him – or anyone much less disciplined than you, actually. If he is truly as influenced by his instincts as he seems, it wouldn’t be that difficult to accidentally incite a dangerous response.”

Severus tried not to interpret that as a lack of concern for Severus’ safety. “What of the werewolf? He understands a predator’s instincts just fine, and it’s not like _he_ has a job to occupy him.”

“Oh, no, that would never work. Dragons and wolves don’t exactly get along, Severus. I very much doubt either of them would be able to control his instincts were they to come together as Harry is now.”

Severus mentally sighed in defeat, hating it that Albus’ arguments made sense. “Well,” he said stiffly. “In that case, I suppose I should see to my duties, as my leisure time has just been severely curtailed.”

“Thank you, Severus,” Albus interjected as Severus started for the door. “Your assistance in this means a great deal to me, as I’m certain it does to Harry.”

Severus just sneered and let himself out before he said something he regretted.

* * *

Harry paced repeatedly across the top of the little cliff. _Snape will come back. He promised. He_ _’ll come back._ He continually tried to reassure himself as his instincts kept trying to take over and go search for the man. Some part of him – the human part – knew that it was ridiculous for him to feel so hopelessly attached to his potions master. He knew that the man hated him, and he knew that he hated Snape just as much.

Unfortunately, that knowledge had absolutely no effect on him at the moment. What did matter was that he felt better when he was near Snape. He felt like he could control himself. Like he could remember that he was human rather than getting distracted and losing himself in the drake instincts every time he smelled or heard something or got the urge to fly or felt hungry or… any number of other things that had him succumbing to his instincts twenty times a day.

What mattered was that Snape was important. He made him feel good and Harry wanted him to stay. His drake instincts told him that if he wanted something, he should do everything in his power to have it and keep it. There was no such thing as a submissive drake – which is why they weren’t social creatures. Whenever two drakes met for any purpose other than mating, they tended to fight. Hell, even when they did meet for mating, they tended to fight. That was why only the strongest males were able to successfully reproduce. He had to be able to keep the female from killing him in order to mate with her. Once they did mate though – once they’d accepted one another – it was for life, and they would rarely be more than a few kilometers apart for the rest of their lives.

And none of that was even from Hermione. That was solely what his human mind was able to interpret from his instincts. He just knew these things. It was knowledge that every drake was born with, even if they never actually stopped and thought it out in those terms – being animals and all. They were highly intelligent animals, probably on a level with very smart post owls, like Hedwig, but they were still animals.

_“Harry. I’ve returned.”_

Snape had barely finished sending the thought before Harry had launched himself into the air and was hurtling toward the place he’d last left the potions master. He caught sight of him a little further away, closer to the place where the wards met the ground, and swooped down quickly, throwing back his wings at the last moment so that he hit the ground lightly, just a few feet away from Snape.

The wizard rocked back slightly at the gust of wind, and Harry bounded forward, happily burying his snout in the man’s shoulder, inhaling all those wonderful scents.

He felt amusement from the man again and felt only pleasure in return as he huffed a warm breath onto his human’s neck. Yes. This was his human, and Harry was going to keep him.

“Potter,” Snape said after allowing the sniffing for a long moment. “I’ve come back, but I need to get some work done while I am here.”

Disappointed that Snape could think about anything at the moment, Harry grudgingly took a step back. If it was possible for a drake to pout, Harry would have done it.

Snape almost smiled again, and Harry could feel his amusement, which pleased him again. Honestly, the man took life far too seriously. Harry liked making his human feel amused.

Harry suddenly felt a burst of magic next to them. It wasn’t coming from Snape. With a snarl, he leapt between Snape and the magic, opening his mouth to bite or breathe flame on anything that threatened his human.

The only problem was that he found himself threatening a very ordinary… desk.

A combination of shock and amusement finally drew Harry’s attention back to his human, who looked suspiciously close to chuckling at Harry’s expense. “Was that an attempt to protect me, Potter, or are you really that averse to furniture?” he drawled.

Harry growled at him and was gratified at the effect it had. Snape had that infamous scowl that could terrify any student in the school, but Harry had never had much for intimidating glares. Not when he was human. Evidently, it was much more effective coming from a fire-breathing reptile.

Snape paled slightly and his face blanked, but he held his ground. Then his eyes narrowed with suspicion, and Harry guessed that Snape had picked up on Harry’s amusement. “Get out of my way, Potter,” he growled.

Harry hissed just a little in reply, but this time Snape seemed to know that he didn’t mean it and he merely lifted an eyebrow. Harry extended his neck to nuzzle the human lightly before moving his body so that Snape could get to the desk.

While Snape was sitting down and drawing bundles of rolled parchment from his pockets and enlarging them, Harry inspected the desk. He circled it slowly, sniffing it, and concluded that it tasted of the same magic as the wards that contained him. That made sense then. Snape had asked the Room for a desk.

All too soon, Snape had arranged the parchments and his rather large bottle of red ink, and he was working away – completely ignoring Harry. It was bloody annoying.

Harry paced a few circles around Snape and the desk, but the man was still ignoring him. For a time, Harry struggled between the instinct to gain the man’s attention and the knowledge that Snape really did need to work, and he wouldn’t want to come back as much if Harry didn’t let him get anything done.

Finally, with a resigned humph, Harry curled his body up around Snape’s chair and settled his head into the man’s lap.

Snape stilled and finally took his attention from his work, leaning back and looking down at Harry with pure incredulity. “Mr. Potter…” he said slowly. “What _are_ you doing?”

Harry glanced up at him, then settled his head more comfortably. “ _Comfortable,_ _”_ was all he sent in reply.

Snape took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as Harry had noticed he did when he was trying not to lose his temper. “Mr. Potter, regardless of your current form, I am still your professor. This is hardly… appropriate.”

Harry tilted his head slightly as he tried to make sense of why Snape would think there was anything wrong with this. It wasn’t until he finally thought of what this situation would be like if he was still human that he realized what his human was saying. He huffed in amusement at the mental image, even as the part of him that was wholly human cringed in mortification.

_“Comfortable,”_ Harry sent again, firmly, lifting his head enough to nuzzle Snape’s stomach gently before settling himself again and closing his eyes to rest.

* * *

Severus sighed quietly and firmly told himself that the situation could be much worse. Obviously Potter would never be in such a position were he human. The fact of the matter was that he was _not_ presently human. He was acting on his animal instincts for closeness and comfort, not unlike a dog might rest his head in his master’s lap.

He really didn’t know if he was more disturbed by comparing Harry Potter the Drake to a dog or himself to Harry Potter’s master.

Truly, there was no sense in fighting this point, he told himself. Potter certainly didn’t mean anything inappropriate by it, and it was probably a very lucky thing that he was reacting this way to his instincts rather than trying to use Severus as a chew toy.

Yes, clearly the best thing to do at this point was to continue working and ignore the fact that there was a demi-dragon with his head in his lap.

After a few minutes, Severus managed to do just that, losing himself in the mindless drivel that the majority of the student body had the audacity to call an essay. Merlin, sometimes he really couldn’t imagine why he even tried to teach those cretins anything as they were clearly unable or unwilling to learn the simplest of concepts.

At least he didn’t have to contend with Potter’s pathetic attempts at essay writing. The brat’s handwriting was atrocious, and the content of his essays made it blindingly clear that he did not begin to understand the first thing about potions.

Ah, Granger, he mentally sighed as he flipped to the next essay. Obscenely long-winded, as always, but at least her essays were neat and contained some modicum of intelligence, even if it was regurgitated far too directly from various texts.

He was halfway through Granger’s essay – twice the required length – when the head in his lap shifted and Severus stilled at the movement under his hand. When had he put his free hand on the drake’s head?

Potter moved again – a motion that could not be construed as anything but a request for petting.

Cautiously, Severus slid his hand along the fine scales behind the bony ridge on the back of Potter’s head. To his surprise, a quiet rumbling sound came from the drake that he shortly realized was something like a purr. Smiling faintly at the damnably endearing – _endearing, really?_ – reptile, Severus allowed himself a moment to appreciate the silky smoothness of those scales.

Wild drakes were more plentiful than dragons, but at least twice as difficult to get close to. If dragons were temperamental, drakes were purely feral, and at least as dangerous as their larger cousins. It was _extremely_ rare for any human to get anywhere near a drake without being viciously ravaged. Despite his misgivings with regard to the fact that this was _Harry Potter_ , there was a part of Severus that couldn’t help but be pleased by this unique opportunity. Really, how many people had ever heard a drake make that sound? How many could say what a drake’s scales felt like?

_“Will you leave soon?”_

The question snapped him out of his errant thoughts and he focused on the brilliant green eyes once again open and looking at him.

Severus lifted his hand to cast a quick tempus and was surprised by how late it had gotten. “Yes,” he admitted. “I had best be going.”

Harry’s head rubbed gently against his stomach again, and he felt a combination of sadness and determination. “ _When will you come back?_ _”_

Severus opened his mouth to tell him that he’d return the following evening, but stopped at the pleading look in those impossibly green eyes. “I suppose I could eat breakfast here,” he allowed. “Assuming that you are capable of recalling that I am not on the menu.”

Harry huffed in amusement, but the thought he sent was very firm, “ _Not food. Friend._ _”_

Severus blinked at the boy in complete astonishment. Did Harry Potter truly just refer to Severus Snape as a _friend_? “Potter, I believe your instincts have subsumed what little sense you’ve ever had,” he decided, but his tone was more exasperated than cutting.

Potter growled quietly and lifted his head so that he was on eye level with Severus. “ _Friend_ ,” came again, this time he made it sound almost like a threat. Then he leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against Severus’ neck and the side of his face again.

Severus tried really hard, but it was difficult to not appreciate the gesture. Merlin, he really was hard up for anyone to express affection toward him if he could be so affected by a fond embrace from Harry Potter turned Drake. He sighed very quietly, long since resigned to the pathetic creature that he truly was. “I must go now, Harry,” he said softly.

A small whine came from Potter again as he drew away.

“I shall return in the morning,” Severus promised as he packed up his things and let the Room banish the desk.

* * *

Harry whined expressively as his human left him alone. _Again_! He scowled at the place the desk had been, then lowered his head and smelled where his human had last been. The faint, lingering scent just seemed to make him feel lonelier.

Eventually, he managed to convince himself to return to his nest, in which he curled his body tightly around himself and closed his eyes. Maybe, if he could sleep, he’d dream of his human.

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's my birthday. This is an indulgent little fic I've had in the works for literally years. It won't be a long one. I'm thinking maybe five chapters, but I'm just the author. What do I know?
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts. Comments are wonderful birthday presents. 🎁


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